


Incompatible Shapes

by wrongstation



Category: My Chemical Romance, The Used
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-22
Updated: 2017-03-22
Packaged: 2018-10-09 06:55:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10406436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrongstation/pseuds/wrongstation
Summary: Written in 2004, based loosely around the song Sound Effects and Overdramatics. Gerard is broken. Bert loves that about him.





	

He’s beautiful when he’s hollow. It’s a kind of tragic beauty that I can’t help but admire, and right now he knows I’m admiring it. That familiar glint is in his eyes again, the one that means we’ll more than likely be spending the next couple of hours in a tangle of naked limbs and sweat. I love that glint. The only question that remains is just who’s going to make the first move.

Gerard and I constantly play these games. Maybe it’s to convince ourselves that what we’re doing is only for fun and couldn’t possibly be serious. Or maybe it’s just a way to feel alive… I know I can use all the reminders that I can possibly get, and the emptiness in his eyes tells me he could too. 

I suppose in a way, he had already made that first overture by coming onto my bus in the first place. He had said that he wanted my opinion on something stupid Frank had said, and what had started out as a quick minute of my time turned into an hour’s worth of miles. I love his company, and the chance to spend uninterrupted time with him was too appealing to try and encourage him back onto his own band’s bus before it took off behind mine. He hadn’t seemed concerned, and when Frank had called to see where he was, Gerard had simply rolled his eyes, lit a cigarette, and asked Frank if he really needed to inform him of his whereabouts. I’d say that qualifies as a first move.

Now we were at a standstill, that lull in casual conversation. I’ve always thought of it as the quiet before our storm, and there’s never been a time when I haven’t wondered just what was going through his head. I was watching him carefully, trying to see his eyes through the curtain of shaggy black hair that was layered in his face. As if reading my mind, he swept a hand clumsily through his hair and I saw them clearly, finally. His eyes met mine, and a smirk curled his upper lip faintly. 

“Do you have anything on you?”

We’d been silent for almost a minute, so his voice halfway startled me, even though I’d seen his mouth start to move before his voice had penetrated the room. 

“Like, drugs?”

He half rolled his eyes, but I knew it was an affectionate gesture. Gerard was almost completely incapable of doing something rude to someone he loved, even when he was fucked up or coming down from a high. He was such a contradiction that way, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find it completely fascinating. “Yeah, like drugs. Pills? Weed would be better, though.”

I did have some on me, actually, and I held up one finger in a gesture for him to wait as I got up to find the box where I kept all my shit stashed. Quinn had given me something he’d picked up back home to hold on to for a special occasion, and something told me that it didn’t get much more special than Gerard. I grabbed the bag that contained five already rolled joints and fished the Zippo out of my pocket before tossing him the bag. “First pick is yours.”

He took out a joint, probably the fattest in the bag before tossing them back to me and lighting his with his own lighter. The sweet aroma of the drug immediately replaced the smell of stale cigarettes, and his eyes closed in bliss at the first drag he took. I watched, completely enraptured by the way the smoke curled around him, making him look like one of the drawings he was always hunched over. He took another drag before finally opening his eyes and looking at me, realizing that I hadn’t lit up yet. “Are you just gonna watch me?”

Truthfully, I didn’t really want to get high this time around, and I wasn’t completely sure I wanted him high either. I should have just pretended that I was out of drugs, but he probably wouldn’t have believed me anyway. We always did this… we always sat around and got drunk or got stoned off our asses, even though most people were under the assumption that I’d given up the harder drugs. I was more than mildly curious about what it would be like to sit in front of him and have a real conversation when we were both of steady and uncompromised minds. Then again, who was I kidding? Gerard was never sober.

I took a joint out of the bag and lit it, taking a long drag and letting the smoke roll out through my nose, knowing that one hit was more than I’d wanted, but enough to keep him satisfied. I didn’t have to say anything, because he nodded at my action and let his head roll back to enjoy the rest of his vice. There was one definite high point to getting Gerard high – everything he did from then on was like having sex. His eyes smoldered, his hands lingered over his own body, and everything he touched took on a phallic connotation. And, of course, he became almost instantly turned on. Drugs were a bigger aphrodisiac for him than anything else I’ve ever found. 

I let the joint burn, taking one more hit that I didn’t hold in for more than half a second. I’d picked the smallest one in the bag so it burned out pretty quickly, and by the time that I had stubbed mine out in the ashtray, he was just bringing his to a finish. “Good shit,” he drawled, and I couldn’t help but grin. The two hits I’d taken had brought a pleasant tingle to the edges of my brain, and I could only imagine the place he was in right now. One look in his eyes confirmed how fucked up he was, and dammit he was still beautiful.

“Quinn always finds the best weed,” I replied, noticing that my voice had taken on the more gravelly edge that indicated a slightly less than sober state. He’d caught it apparently, because his lips twitched up into a slight grin. 

“You’re fucked up.”

I snorted softly. “Heya pot, this is kettle. You’re black.”

Gerard, who had been sitting on the floor with his back against the bunks on the left, snickered and changed his position so he was sitting next to me with his back against the bunks on the right. His shoulder pressed against mine and before I really registered how close he was, his lips were nipping at my earlobe. “I’m white all over and you know it,” he said, his voice just above a whisper and closer to a murmur. He giggled softly, a sound that I wouldn’t think he’d be capable of making if I hadn’t heard it firsthand numerous times before. “And red.”

I knew exactly what he was talking about… the long red lines that crisscrossed and marred the otherwise flawless white skin all over various parts of his body. He had the occasional scar, but Gerard wasn’t the type to cut to scar. He cut to bleed.

I turned my head to look at him, and he still had that stupid doped up grin on his face. All I could focus on was wanting to wipe it off his face, to cut it out and replace it with … anything. Something different, something raw and real. Before he had time to react or I had time to change my mind, my lips were crashing against his and my hand was gripping the side of his face, tilting his head up towards mine. The sound of surprise that was muffled against my lips was either one of pleasure or surprise, and at that point I really couldn’t have cared less either way. He was reacting, and that was what I’d been after.

Oh god, was he reacting. 

I felt his lips part under mine and suddenly his tongue was stabbing into my mouth viciously. Our tongues clashed together frantically as he slipped into my lap, his weight pushing me back painfully against the edge of the bunk, but I didn’t care. It could have been breaking every bone in my back and I wouldn’t have cared. All I cared about was the feeling of his teeth nipping at my tongue and the feeling of his flushed skin under my hands. The kiss broke and he leaned back to whisk his shirt over his head, and he tilted his head down to look at me, catching my eyes and looking almost serious for a moment. 

“Bert… touch them.”

I blinked stupidly for a minute, not sure what he was talking about. Touch what? His nipples? Well, yeah, I’d get to that eventually, but…

“These…” he clarified, taking my wrist in his hand and guiding my fingers to the red whispers of cuts that stretched up his ribs. They didn’t look particularly painful, so I let my fingertips run along the raised up skin, my tongue sweeping over my lower lip where I could still taste him. “I did them last night. Aren’t they pretty?”

Truthfully, they were fucking hot. I don’t know what it is about seeing cuts on a man’s body that sends shivers through me that lead right down to my crotch. I was suddenly very aware of the erection pushing against him, and by the little wiggle of his hips, he was aware of it too. “They’re hot,” I managed to choke out, and before I had time to further embarrass myself, I swept my hands up his stomach and over his chest, claiming his lips in another long, searing kiss. 

Our mouths and tongues dueled for dominance, and when I unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, my hand plunging inside to wrap around his length, he gasped and victory was mine. I fumbled blindly with his length, pushing his pants down with my free hand as my tongue repeatedly stabbed into his mouth. It felt like I was raping the cavern, plundering it and making it completely my own. His whimpers and mewls of pleasure were only spurring me on, and before I knew it, his pants had managed to slide completely off his legs. 

I broke the kiss with a gasp, swallowing the air that my lungs were screaming for. My eyes were once again glued to his body, but he quickly snapped me out of my daze by yanking at the hem of my shirt. “Bert… come on…” 

Blinking rapidly several times, I leaned back and quickly pulled off my shirt, dropping it aside and shimmying out of my pants. There was nothing slow or ceremonious about any of it, and my hands only lingered briefly on his hips before I was turning him over. He planted his knees on the floor and bent over the bottom bunk, his perfectly round and fleshy ass up in the air in one of the most inviting scenes I have ever seen. I swear to fucking god, I could have come right there just from looking at him. “Fucking hot, Gee,” I groaned, shifting onto my knees and positioning myself behind him. My hands gripped at his hips as I pushed my cock between the globes of his ass, rocking against him before pressing slowly into him, resting when the head passed the ring of muscle, giving him time to relax his muscles the way I always do when we’re like this together. 

“Fuck me now,” he groaned, and that quickly he was impaling himself on my length, pushing back in that earnest Gerard-like way that must have hurt like a bitch… which is what I’m sure he was after all along. The pleasure cut through me in a white-hot stab, and my body responded immediately, not wasting any more time with niceties. I withdrew from him completely before slicing back inside in one measured thrust, his yowl all the encouragement I needed to begin thrusting sharply into him. My knees were burning from the scraping against the floor and every other thrust had me slipping almost completely out of him thanks to the awkward position, but none of it mattered when compared to the blinding pleasure that was racing along every sensitized nerve in my body.

My hips had taken on a life of their own, and I shifted to press my chest completely against his back, humping him furiously from my mounted position, loving every dirty grunt and reminder of just how lewd we had to look. He was jerking himself off frantically, whimpering and muttering my name repeatedly, the mantra interjected with the occasional curse and plea for more… harder… faster… hit that spot again. My head was so foggy with the intense waves of pleasure that I wasn’t even sure if I was giving him what he was asking for, but I was certainly trying. My hips were pumping so fast that I was sure I was going to rip a hole right through him, and when he came, it was a long and extremely loud shout, his body shuddering violently beneath mine. 

Not even a full minute passed before my own climax had me locked in its grasp, shivers racing through my body and a high-pitched sound ringing in my ears. I felt my muscles tense and the familiar sensation throb through me as I lost control, gasping his name and tightening my hold on him substantially, my release spilling into him unchecked. I could barely hold my weight anymore, so I dropped off him and sprawled back on the floor, turning my head to look at him, seeing the tiny aftershocks still making his muscles twitch occasionally. 

After a minute, he turned around again and slid down the bunk, returning to his earlier sitting position. He’d managed to rip his lip open yet again, and the tip of his tongue was poking just slightly out of his mouth to dab at the torn skin. I leaned up to tug at his lip with my teeth, opening the wound again just slightly and lapping at his blood, bringing about a small growl from the back of his throat. This was why that damn lip would never heal and we both knew it. 

I pulled back again, sitting down across from him and trying to make eye contact, but again he was avoiding my eyes. I tried for casual post-coital conversation instead. “I think we get better at that every time we do it.”

He snorted softly and leaned forward in an almost comical position to grab his pants, fishing in the pockets for his cigarettes offering me one, which I gladly accepted. I finally found my Zippo and lit both cigarettes, taking a drag as I waited for him to reply. “Please. There’s no way we could possibly get any better.”

Part of me was inclined to agree, because I knew from personal experience that Gerard was the best I’d had up until this point. No one had ever made sin feel as good as he did, and the only thing that could have made it better would have been… “Do you ever, like, want more?” What the fuck was that? I knew the rules – there was no talking about serious subject matter, and I was most certainly not supposed to have actual emotions. I was just Bert McCracken, the slightly dirty and never serious post-hardcore singer and songwriter. It was supposed to end there, because that’s what everyone wanted. Especially him. 

“We don’t really have to have this conversation, do we?” Despite the annoyed tone in his voice, I had finally caught his eyes and they were telling me a completely different story. In that one flash of our held gaze, I saw him silently begging for me see why he couldn’t commit. Why the entire concept was too difficult for him. I opened my mouth to speak, to jump on that flash and try to wrestle it out of him and into reality, but I was too late. That quick, the mask was back up and his eyes were once again void of any emotion beyond satiation and the lingering flicker of annoyance at my question.

I tried immediately to play it off by laughing and taking a long drag of my cigarette. “Fuckin-A, Gee, can’t you tell when I’m fucking with you?”

He looked genuinely relieved as he managed to crawl to his feet, stubbing out his half finished cigarette. “I gotta piss now. Be right back.”

I watched him head past me towards the broom closet sized bathroom. Once he was out of sight, I let my head roll back against the bunk, my eyes squeezed shut as I mentally kicked my own ass for being so stupid. Now I really wanted that joint.

I don’t know what in the hell he’d been doing in the bathroom, but by the time he came out, I’d almost finished a joint. After our amazing fuck and near argument, I figured I damn well deserved to blur the edges a little. He flopped down beside me this time, and my eyes didn’t stray far from his skin at all. In fact, I was so preoccupied with staring at him that I didn’t notice that my hand was now missing the joint until I tried to smoke it.

“What the fuck, Gee?”

He lifted a shoulder in a shrug, taking a long hit from it before leaning over to stub it out in the ashtray. That poor ashtray had seen so much action these past few hours… it was almost to the point of overflowing. “You were just holding it, so what the hell.” He smirked faintly and rested back against the bunk, rolling his head to the side to look at me as he spoke. “You know, you guys don’t even have fucking razors in that bathroom. Neanderthals.”

My eyebrows skyrocketed to my hairline. “You wanted to shave?”

He gave me a pointed look that told me I was retarded and shook his head. “No. I didn’t want to shave.”

I was getting ready to open my mouth and ask what he would have needed a razor for, then, but stopped. Of course. “Sorry, guess you’ll have to wait until you get back on your own bus to do that.” I wanted to ask him why he needed to do it at all, but I would have been breaking the rules again. Don’t talk about anything serious, and don’t ask him about his cuts. Admire them, touch them, lick them, add a few to the collection… but don’t ask.

In between the mountains of Gerard’s highs are deep valleys of lows. I’d seen him caught in the middle of them, and they were scary places to be. Scary enough for an outsider to look in on and watch… I couldn’t imagine what it had to be like to live inside his head. I wanted to understand more than anything – I wanted him to open up and show me what his mind held, but I knew he never would. I would never understand those valleys and the pain that he built up behind his fake smiles and loud moans. The rules were in place and as strong as ever. Not a day went by that I didn’t tell myself that I should try to break down the walls and rip away the mask, but the fear was too strong. The fear of rejection, the fear of losing him forever. So, as usual, I took the coward’s way out and tried not to think of the consequences.

I had seen many, many sides of his lows. The lows of depression that had him locked away for days, crying and scribbling barely legible suicide notes on napkins. The lows that followed his coming down hard from a high, his body trembling and mouth spilling out more gibberish than I’d ever heard in my life. I tried not to think about them much, especially since I knew there wasn’t any way for me to really help him. Gerard’s problems were the kind that he had to want help for before any could be given.

“Jesus, you’re spacing out a lot,” he commented, and I snapped back into the present. 

“I’m fucking wasted, man,” I said with a laugh. And I was. I had to admit that it felt pretty damn good to be this high… to be able to take those pesky thoughts and push them aside if I really wanted to. Of course, I didn’t really want to, so I would continue to let them eat away at the back of my mind. Gerard certainly isn’t the only one of us that’s a masochist. 

He snickered and stretched out in the aisle, draping over my legs to do so. We were both sprawled out completely naked as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do. Never mind that Quinn could have been on the bus – which he wasn’t, but that wasn’t the point. Gerard shifted a bit to get comfortable, his head resting just above my knees. His hand was resting on his own stomach, his fingers tracing odd and random patterns over his skin aimlessly. “I’m so… tired.”

There was something about the way he said it that was slightly off, and I knew instantly that he wasn’t talking about being physically tired. I could feel myself tense, and I chose my words carefully. “Of what?” I didn’t want to push too hard, because I knew he’d just clam right back up and I wouldn’t get anything out of him.

He shrugged one shoulder. “Of a lot of things.” He opened his mouth as if he were going to say something else, but it was closed again a second later and silence fell between us.

The way he constantly switched on and off – high to low, high to low – was dizzying, and I never knew what to say. What to do. I had long since given up on trying to figure out his moods and piece them together to make some kind of sense. His mood changed so quickly that I couldn’t really catch onto the vibe long enough to make sense of it anyway. “Anything… in particular?” 

He looked up at me for a second and I found myself holding my breath. “No.” He sat up and I exhaled in a heavy sigh. 

Gerard obviously caught the sigh, because he cut his eyes to me quickly. “What?”

I blinked. “Nothing.” 

“No… what?”

I’m not speechless often, but I’ll be damned if he doesn’t tear the words right out from under me sometimes. “I…” I honestly had no idea what to say, so I picked something random. “I was just thinking that I missed seeing you smile.”

It was his turn to blink. “I smile all the time. What the fuck?”

I shook my head. “No… no, you don’t. You grin. You fake smile. You talk about smiling like it’s something people do, but you never actually do it. It doesn’t reach your eyes.”

He rolled his eyes. We’d had this conversation before, and he never wanted to hear what I had to say. He never wanted to listen, because he knew it was all true. “Fuck, Bert. I’m not a walk in the park, okay? I’m not a fucking…” he trailed off, his hand waving in the air as he tried to think. “…rainbow, okay? I’m not a musical or a sing-a-long, or a basket of kittens and puppies.”

I had no idea where he was going with this, and I opened my mouth to interrupt. “Gee-”

“No!” He said, stopping anything I could have said to follow up. “You’re right, okay? I’m not bright, shiny, and happy. I wish I could be. But I can’t, so can we fucking drop it?”

I tried out my best nonchalant impression, shrugging. “Fine, whatever.”

“Thank you.” He heaved a sigh of relief, and his hair blew slightly out of his face with the expulsion of air. 

For some reason, that struck me as being so fucking endearing that suddenly my nonchalance was failing. I reached out to him and cupped his jaw, forcing him to look at me. He looked a little confused but didn’t pull away, just lifting his brows in a silent question. I stroked over his chin with my thumb, letting the touch extend up to his lips before I replaced it with my lips, kissing him gently. He responded slowly, and I felt myself pressing closer to him, wanting to feel my skin against his. The exploration of his lips was slow and unlike anything I ever did… I wanted to take my time and really feel his lips moving beneath mine. By the time I finally increased the pressure of the kiss and parted his lips with mine, he was clinging tightly to me with both hands.

I could feel so much leaking through from this kiss. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I was so scared that he was going to break away from me and tell me to stop. This wasn’t what we did … this wasn’t hard and fast and emotion free. I was telling him everything I couldn’t say with words, and what was incredible to me was the fact that it felt like he was doing the same.

Finally, I needed to breathe and I pulled back, not moving far away from his lips at all. That’s when I heard him say in the quietest of whispers, “Blue.”

Blue.

God, did that word fucking send me on a trip down memory lane. We had all been sitting around – his band and mine – and most of us were completely shitfaced drunk. Branden was sober and I think Ray might have been, but I know Gerard and I were beyond wasted. We’d been playing our games for awhile, and I had been steadily falling for him… wordlessly and without admitting it, of course. We had been making out – I think Frank had dared us to do it, actually – and suddenly I was struck with the bright idea to start confessing to him how I felt. 

Let’s just say that it went over like a lead balloon. Every time I tried to tell him he was beautiful, he laughed and told me to shut up. But there was desperation behind his teasing words, and I could tell that he knew what it was all leading up to. The “L” word that he was terrified of. Nothing scared him more than love, and all I wanted to do was tell him that’s exactly what I felt for him. 

I got so far as staring into his eyes and saying “I…” before he cut me off with a firm shove in the chest, knocking me into Jeph. 

“Go on, finish that sentence,” Gerard had dared me, and I knew by the gleam in his eyes that if I had said anything resembling my feelings for him that he’d pull away for good.

So I improvised. “I really like the color blue.”

Now we were in the here and now, and he was using that word. I opened my eyes, looking at him carefully to make sure that it was really him… that I wasn’t dreaming or just tripping out to the extreme. “Can… can you repeat that?”

He shook his head and murmured, “You heard me.”

I was so overwhelmed that all I could do was throw my arms around him and kiss him. I kissed him so deeply that it felt like were going to turn into one person. He clung to me and kissed me back, his hands suddenly all over me. It didn’t take long for mine to move heatedly over him as well, appreciating for the millionth time how soft and supple he is under all his clothes. Nothing in this entire world feels more like home to me than Gerard’s body. 

I was completely lost in the kiss and in the feel and taste of him that I didn’t even notice that I was being laid back onto the floor. I just completely went with the flow and turned myself over to him and everything that was passing between us. He finally broke the kiss and started planting kisses down the side of my neck and down to the hollow of my throat. I wrapped my arms around him, holding him close against me and arching my back, panting softly through parted lips. My heart was slamming so hard against my chest that I was half afraid it was just going to stop, but I didn’t mind the risk. Anything was worth this.

He nudged my thighs apart with his knee and I dropped my legs for him immediately and without thought. My hands were clawing at his back and so much need was racing through me that I was getting dizzy. When his hand wrapped around my cock and began to stroke, I couldn’t bite back the strangled cry that came from my throat. I needed him so much… so badly… and I think I must have been murmuring that out loud because he began whispering in my ear that it was okay, he was about to fuck me. I whimpered in response and pressed up towards him, eager, unwilling to wait. I wanted to feel him inside me… needed to be filled by him. 

His first thrust was slow and smooth, and he didn’t stop until he was completely inside of me. I hugged him close with my thighs, my arms twined around him as well so as not to lose an inch of contact between us. He withdrew slowly and his next thrust was much harder and deeper. “Fuck…” I cursed in a steady stream under my breath, falling immediately into his pace and matching his fervor equally. His lips were nipping and kissing over me, and my hands were racing over every inch of skin that I could possibly touch. I kneaded at his ass, my fingers slipping between the cheeks to press at his entrance, knowing that I would make him start to move even faster.

I wasn’t disappointed, and the throaty growl that I got in response made me tremble down to my core. His thrusts became less measured, and I don’t think he could have gotten any deeper if he’d tried. The pleasure was intense, but looking up at his face as he fucked me was what finally sent me spiraling over the edge into an explosion of a release. My nails bit into his skin so hard that I wouldn’t have been surprised if I’d drawn blood, and there’s no way the driver could have missed my wail of pleasure. I shuddered and thrusted wildly up against him, and suddenly I felt a heated rush that couldn’t have been anything other than his own climax.

He shuddered and whimpered my name, burying his face in my neck as his body collapsed on top of mine, and I ran a trembling hand down his back. My breathing was all over the place, but it slowly began to calm, and I finally let my eyes slip shut as I wilted back against the floor. Now that the pleasure from my orgasm had almost completely faded, the pain was sinking in. My muscles hurt, and my back was throbbing from being pounded down against the hard floor of the bus. But nothing could take away from the incredible afterglow I was caught in the middle of.

Gerard lifted off me weakly and kissed my forehead. He shifted up and pushed aside the curtain of my bunk – Christ, why hadn’t we thought to use that instead of the floor? – and climbed inside, shifting onto his side and patting the spot beside him. I didn’t need any more encouragement than that, so I pulled my aching body off the floor and climbed onto the little bed beside him. I was still absolutely speechless, but he spoke instead.

“That was the best one so far.”

I chuckled, knowing it was true. God was it true… and for so many reasons. “Yeah…” was all I could manage in response. 

“We don’t… I mean, you… um.”

No. Fuck, I did not want to deal with this right now. I didn’t want his backpedaling and second guessing. I didn’t want him glossing over what had just happened. I didn’t want to forget or ignore that he had said the word ‘blue’. It wasn’t just a color, and we both knew it. “Gerard, please…” I whispered, completely unable to look at him. I didn’t want to see him as he rejected me again. 

“Mm… Bert…no. You don’t understand.” This time he was the one cupping my chin, and I couldn’t help but look at him. Grudgingly, but I looked at him. His eyes softened, but he didn’t smile. His lips didn’t move at all, except to talk. “I want to smile. I want to.” He kissed me, then rested his forehead against mine. “I want to.”

I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t have known what to say anyway. I had no idea what it all meant, but I did know that I was closer to having what I wanted now than I ever had been before. It all seemed so possible all of a sudden, and I wanted to treasure all of this. I swallowed and kissed his lips again, running a soothing hand down his back. He was curling against me, his leg sliding between mine and his face burrowing against my chest. He was exhausted… hell, I was exhausted too. 

Maybe when we woke up we could find a way to turn ourselves into shapes that fit one another.


End file.
